Tale of Two Cities Lost Chapter
by anubunny99
Summary: What if there was a lost chapter in Tale of Two Cities, one that tied up a couple loose ends? This chapter takes place in Book Three, between chapters 12 and 13, and reveals Lucie's mother, and a scene between Lucie and Sydney, and Sydney and Monsieur Defarge.


_Tale of Two Cities_

Book 3

Chapter 12.5 ("Lost" Chapter): _Tugging Hearts_

The troubled state of Lucie's mind, in the midst of dream and consciousness, began to propagate back in time, not being able to do much else. Clarity had vanished, and so her mind set out to find it. Back it was hurled, before she set foot in the land of the disposed King; back it continued, to happiness and gain; back it continued, to sorrow and loss; back to her marriage with a man, fate to die; back to three proposals, only two of which she received; back to the surge of hope of a recalled to life Doctor; back before even her time at an orphanage, till it settled upon a memory she was not even aware of. It was a time before the death of her mother, when Lucie had no care in the world but whether her dolls were "happy" and her toys plentiful.

Lucie witnessed herself, a golden haired doll with rosy cheeks and the shine of naivety and ignorance. Her younger self follow a spider around her bedroom, though she had already been sent to tucked in, enraptured by the creature and following its every move until it disappeared into a crack in the wall. Curious in the way all little children are, she peeked through the hole, astonished to see her mother wide awake and pacing back and forth, until a knock sounded softly at the door. Sophie Manette opened the door to let a stranger in. By the way he shrugged his coat off and placed it gently on the coat rack next to him, Lucie could tell he had been here before, and felt the first sting of betrayal in her life.

"Sophie," he sighed, and looked longingly upon her mother, as Lucie watched, clueless of what he yearned for. "I know you refuse to be my wife, you mourn your husband still, and I mourn for you and your child, but you must at least accept my help. You must accept my money; I cannot let you live like this any longer!"

"James, I am not a stubborn woman, and you know it; do not use it against me." She turned away so Lucie could see her face, lined with scars of sadness, though the sufficiently wide crack in her door. "My dignity is one of the only things I have left, please do not take this away from me as well!"

"Love, your dignity is not worth as much to you, as your happiness does to me. You may not be stubborn, but I am, and I will not leave until you chose either my money, or my hand in marriage." The stranger said in a hushed honey voice.

Lucie gasped, and Sophie took the conversation into the frigid night. Her arrival, and the departure of James, synchronized with the arrival of Lucie's friend, the spider. Keeping her gaze on the spindly little thing, she returned to the safety of her bed, oblivious of the heartbreak she had just witnessed. Lucie kept her bright blue eyes wide open, but ready to put in the guise of sleep should her mother walk in. Later, rummaging through a dingy closet, she would come upon a wad of bills.

Now, Lucie found herself laying upon her bed, undoubtedly carried over by Jerry, and supervised by Mr. Lorry. The air filled with a stale scent that only sent a dread to her weak stomach, and slowly walked out the door and into the refreshing night, not entirely sure whether she was awake or not. She only planned on stepping out for a much needed breath in the eye of the storm. And yet, she felt something tugging at her heart, a need she was unaware of, something that led her to the spot by the Wood-Sawyer, absent right then. She could only assume it was the will of her husband, in the tower above her, and the will of her own heart, yearning to be at his side until she saw a tall figure, with his face bent slightly away. Lucie then thought of one more heart that had tugged and brought her upon that spot. It was a heart that tugged hers, stronger than even he knew of himself. Lucie's tentative hand landed on his broad shoulder, enticing a jerk out of the unexpectedly sober man.

"Sydney," Lucie exclaimed in soft surprise. The dull light of a bulb glinted off of her golden hair, as if it too were attracted to her. The look on Carton's face was of true surprise, for he did not expect to see her lovely face, already captured in his mind, ever again. "I did not know you were in France! When did you arrive? Why did you not come and find me?"

"I-I did not want to see your distress ridden face, and let it remind me... Do you remember the promises I made you?"

"Every word of it resounds in my memories. And yet, I still hope for you, and that you will one day gain the happiness and love I know you deserve."

"This is why I did not tell you I was here," he said with a frustrated look upon him. "There is no hope for me Lucie, and I have accepted it. Do not waste your prayers on me, for, I will die a happy man, I assure you."

"Don't say that! There is always hope. But how are you so certain?"

"If all goes well, my death will result in your joy; therefore, I will die happily and readily."

"Mr. Carton!" A shocked Lucie said. "Your death can't possibly result in my joy!"

A sharp click of heels resounded against the oddly shaped stone pavement, Suspicion lingering in a wobbly voice.

"Who goes there?" A rough male voiced tuned Lucie into a statue out of fear, leaving only Sydney mobile. He shoved Lucie, not harshly, into an alley covered in the shadows of the night.

"It is just I, Sydney Carton."

"Of England?"

"Yes Monsieur Defarge," Sydney had recognized the face from the Wine shop in Saint Antoine, and was astonished at the fact that it was he who was drunk, and not Sydney.

"Good, good. It is safer here to be wealthy and English, than wealthy and of France, no?"

"Yes, I know of an acquaintance accused of such here. Do not worry, I will renounce all ties with him."

"Ah!" Monsieur Defarge barked out a choking laugh, "Well done, son, well done! Anything else and my wife would have your head on a pike, with nothing to stop her but her own death!"

Sydney joined the laughter to be polite, however wavering and uneasy a laugh it was. He quickly bid him a farewell, and waited for him to saunter off into the night before turning towards Lucie, hidden in a blanket of night.

While witnessing their disturbing conversation, Lucie had connected one thought to another and had formed a revelation that brought tears to the into the golden haired girl's eyes.

"Lucie, you must go home now, there are other dangers for the wife of a prisoner, I'm sure, lurking around here. I just have two requests for you-"

"You are planning something aren't you?" Tears already racing down her cheeks were instantly captured by Sydney's warm hands, and gazed at with wonder. "Oh Carton! Don't do anything rash or incriminating! You must be careful! Charles and I would not be able to live with ourselves should something happen to you!"

"I am thankful for these tears, but you mustn't waste them on me. Whatever hope you have given me has been used to reform me to what I am now, for I would never have done what I am about to do five years ago! I am content with the use of this hope, and as long as you never shed a tear again, as long as your smile is for ever, you mustn't guilt yourself over me. My requests, though admittedly selfish, are to first, accept my love, even if it is seen as a friend."

"Sydney, you _are_ my friend, and I have accepted this love and returned it for a long time now." She leaned up and pressed her lips softly to his. "I place this kiss upon you as a friend, and we must part as friends, for I believe this is a parting."

A moment was needed for Carton to formulate a response, so deep in emotion that he had almost drowned.

"Thank you," he breathed, "and for my last request, remember me."

"The thought of forgetting you is inconceivable in my mind, and to my daughter too, I believe."

"Go then, my love, show me your smile once more and go!"

Lucie summoned a smile, but it wobbled, and threatened to drop, for she was yet again entering the storm, and she could feel the sadness begin to rain on her. She turned away and ran home, raindrops mixing with tears, until she fell to her knees by the fireplace. Pain reverberated through her whole body, a presentiment of what was to come, and Lucie knew she would have no tears left when it did.

The pain grew with every passing breath, and she glared at the fire. Its twisting and turning flames, molten red grace, radiating warmth allured her towards it. _Humans tend to be attracted to the most dangerous things_, Lucie speculated, and her the desire to grasp the flames, embrace the pain it would bring, and burn away the turmoil within her grew, till she began inching towards it. _There is safety in warmth_, she reasoned, _warmth is good. _When a flame leapt towards her, she reached out and seized it, taking in the fire, the pain inside almost nonexistent, her body in agony. What started out as a tingle of heat soon turned into a searing struggle of endurance, as she reached even further in, the flames separating around her arm and scalding her palm.

Lucie gasped and pulled her arm back, her palm growing with flakes of burnt skin. Slowly, feeling returned, and she found her eyes crusting with salty tears, and her throat hoarse from screaming, where no one could hear her. Later, she would awake and think it was all a dream, seeing her palm barely burnt. Now, exhaustion came upon her, quick and unheralded, and she collapsed to the floor, her last thoughts being whether the pain was just her own, or was it mixed with the echoes of her mother's, too.


End file.
